


everytime

by Sneakyfox55



Series: Never Forget [9]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Marriage, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Panic Attacks, Psychological Horror, References to Undertale Genocide Route, Sans (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Self-Hatred, just a bit, nuzzles, partially inspired by music, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneakyfox55/pseuds/Sneakyfox55
Summary: It wasn't a new thing for Sans's fear to manifest themselves as nightmares. Sometimes they felt too real to bear. He'd wake up, and things would be normal, but the terror never left.He thought it would go away, now that he had you; now that you had promised to stay by his side, always.Things would be better.......But,the terror never left.
Relationships: Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Series: Never Forget [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879786
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	everytime

**Author's Note:**

> i kinda sad so i wrote sad oof
> 
> sorry lol, but i'm also working on another fluffy fic with these two for the record, so--

Sans opened his eyesockets, and found himself alone.

The house had gone eerily quiet. It was darker than normal—somehow darker than the night itself.

He thought he remembered you saying something earlier; a goodbye, maybe, before you left.

You hadn’t come back yet. Something was wrong.

He reached for his phone and dialed for you. You didn’t pick up, so he tried a second time.

Somebody answered, but...

It wasn’t you.

**_She is gone, Sans._ **

A child’s voice. Echoing, and distant, but coldly familiar.

The darkness around him grew.

**_They are all gone,_** the disembodied voice continued calmly.

“no,” the skeleton snapped, “n o . you’re _lying_.”

**_Am I?_ **

****

Through the pain, he saw them: the silhouette of a young human in front of him, standing in the doorway—all but their grin invisible in the lack of light.

**_“Whose fault do you think this really is?”_ **

Their voice was much clearer, sending chills down his spine.

He could feel his sins crawling up his back—thousands of them, he thought, freezing his body in place.

**_“You didn’t stop me when you had the chance,”_** the human sneered, and his vision swam with tears as he glared at them.

“i _tried_ —”

Suddenly, they’d gotten closer, looming over him like a shadow. He tried to escape but his own soul wouldn’t let him, even as he felt something sharp scrape jarringly against his ribs.

They snarled at him,

**_“NO YOU DIDN’T.”_ **

He didn’t.

He let them do it. All of it.

He let them escape punishment in the end—let Frisk fall victim to something he should have stopped. Something not entirely their fault, and yet...

He _spared_ them, when they came back.

He let them _go_ and _only_ made up for it by making them _promise_ not to do it again.

**_“Promises mean nothing.”_ **

He should have _known_ that.

He should have...

**_“So why did you do it?”_ **

_He..._

**“ _WHY?”_**

****

_He didn’t know._

_He didn’t KNOW._

“i don't...”

He choked on his words, just as your hands weakly reached for him.

“ W h y ? ”

You rasped the same thing, with blood and tears rolling freely down your face.

Sans’s soul twisted.

There was a large gash where your heart would have been. You smelled faintly of iron, and your hair was soaked red. You were dying.

He nuzzled his skull into your chest, despite the blood, despite the pain. “i-i-i don’t know, i don’t—i’m sorry, i’m so sorry—”

_That’s not good enough._

He couldn’t fix this.

He broke his promise too.

He messed up.

He killed you.

He killed his brother.

He killed everyone.

He didn’t do anything to stop it.

He couldn’t protect anyone—couldn’t even protect his own family.

This was his fault.

He hoped you hated him.

He hoped you wanted him dead.

“i love you. i love you. i’m sorry.”

He hoped to fall asleep, and never wake up.

“i-i...”

Your soul shattered, and his did too.

“i hate myself,” was all he could manage.

A final statement that meant nothing in regards to true despair.

Yet a reassurance, almost, as his body scattered into a million pieces.

*

A beat later, Sans jolted awake.

The moment he saw the darkness still around him, his soul sped up in pace, body frozen once more. His breaths came out ragged, attempting to calm but only causing his bones to rattle harder.

It hurt.

It hurt to even be here, knowing what he’d done.

You should have left a long time ago.

He should have made you leave, somehow—convince you it was pointless, convince you to _give up_ on him, he’d only ever bring you _misery_.

He should have tried to be better.

He should have _tried_.

He should have—

“Sans?”

He nearly started again, panicked gaze flicking to the source of the voice.

It was you.

He’d woke you, and you were sitting up, staring at him through the darkness with considerable distress. His soul merely shook in response, something tight still wound in his chest as he attempted to make it up to you.

“i-i-i’m—i’m s-sor—”

“Hey, hey...” you quickly started hushing him gently, rushing to inch closer as you tentatively held out your hand. “It’s okay. It’s okay, Sans, just—can you just breathe for me, please?”

On instinct Sans went to shake his head, his wide, dark eyesockets not focusing on you as he still made an attempt to speak: “n-n-no—no, i-i—i ne—ed t-to—”

He choked on nothing, still trying to heave out some sort of apology, but your voice shushed him gently, calming his soul just a bit. He wanted to go to you, then; to be held safely in your arms, but he was trembling too hard to even _function_.

He _needed_ you.

He needed you but he couldn’t,

couldn’t protect you, couldn’t be what _you_ needed—

“i-i can’t—i—”

_He hated this._

“i—h—h- _hate myself_ , i—”

He sobbed it out, this time, hysterical tears leaving him for you. He wasn’t sure when you’d pulled him close to you, though he clung to you desperately, repeating the words over and over like a mantra.

You let him, for whatever reason. You let him and simply held him tight, kissing his skull and whispering soft assurances like it didn’t hurt you at all. He knew it did—he knew you were almost as pained as he was, your soul reflecting to him an agony he knew wasn’t a part of his.

He was hurting you.

He—

“It’s okay,” you murmured again, for the thousandth time, though your voice broke. “It’s _okay_ sweetheart, j-just—... Stay with me. Please.”

Everything told him not to. Everything told him to let go of you, to leave you alone and stop putting you through this.

He didn’t _want_ to feel better, to say _anything_ that would possibly harm you, yet—

...

Part of him didn’t care.

Part of him, while knowing he could never be enough, still desperately wanted to hold onto you. Even if he _knew_ he didn’t deserve you.

His soul ached for you.

Was it...

Okay to be selfish? Even now...?

The pain felt like too much for him to truly tell. Too much to bear anymore.

In the end, he could do nothing but nuzzle his tear-streaked face into the fabric of your shirt, a small, shaky whimper escaping past his teeth. His bones continued rattling violently, and sobs started tumbling out of him, not even quelled by your soothing voice.

He tried to stop, but his soul wouldn’t let him. He tried focusing only on you but his thoughts were loud—all he could do was curl against you, his arms wrapped around you tightly, and rest his skull atop your chest.

The sound of your heartbeat calmed him, if slightly. Reminded him that you were still here. The tightness in his chest slowly dispersed as your fingers trailed up and down his spine, allowing him to breathe and start thinking more clearly.

His breathing still hitched, and the tears didn’t stop, but the hopelessness had faded. The anguish ebbed somewhat, dissolving into lesser tendrils of pain that flowed out of his eyesockets.

He could still hear you, even as his own hoarse voice gradually killed itself off.

“I love you,” was all you were saying now, a reminder of sorts; of everything. It was whispered under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. “I—... M-more than anything.”

You laid your cheek against the top of his head.

“I love you so, so much,” you said softly, with as much emotion as Sans felt in his soul for you. He wished he could echo it, as he normally did—but speaking seemed like a chore, now.

He hoped you knew, even so.

He hoped you could feel his soul telling yours, or even hear it, quiet yet clear.

In case you didn’t, he nuzzled at your neck, brushing his teeth affectionately to your skin.

You returned the gesture with another kiss.

“...You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It was probably a lie, really—said simply to placate him, as you had been doing.

...Yet...

You seemed to _believe_ it, somehow.

You seemed to believe he was worth all of this.

...And,

you were still here.

You...

Still loved him.

So, maybe...

Things were still okay.

Maybe he hadn’t messed up after all. He still had a chance.

Maybe...

. . .

Maybe, this promise would last.

He hoped so.

He hoped to wake tomorrow morning with golden sunshine all around him, and...

He hoped you would still be there.

...

He knew you would still be there.

So,

he let himself fall into sleep in your arms, knowing that.

Knowing you were safe with him.


End file.
